Volume One, Chapter Twelve: Liking Someone Is Nothing but Countless Serendipitous "Coincidences"

Crash!

Upon hearing this, Lu Ye smashed the wine glass in front of him into shards. “Outrageous! Do you think marriage is a child’s game?”

The knife in Xu Qian’s hand screeched across her plate. Her crimson lips were bitten so hard they split open. “When did this happen with Big Brother? Why did none of us know?”

Bo Xingzhou wiped the wine from his fingers with unhurried composure, his gaze pausing at Fu Yuting’s recently vacated seat. “Do I need to notify you all when I get married?”

“You’re keeping things very close to the chest, aren’t you, Big Brother?” Lu Jingyan adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, eyes shadowed behind the lenses, a faint sneer playing at his lips. “Don’t tell me... it’s someone we know?”

Bo Xingzhou lifted his eyes, meeting Lu Jingyan’s gaze across the table. “You’ll find out in due time.”

The air froze.

The restaurant’s air conditioning seemed to turn suddenly colder, a hush so deep it was almost terrifying.

Lu Ye’s voice shattered the silence.

He looked at his eldest son, who seemed to be growing further beyond his control. His gaze grew colder still. It seemed action would soon be necessary.

“Find a time and bring her to the old house for a visit.”

“She’s occupied with a project at the moment. Once she’s finished, I’ll bring her,” Bo Xingzhou replied, his voice low and irresistibly commanding.

“Speaking of which,” Lu Ye abruptly turned to Lu Jingyan, “your engagement to Miss Fu has been delayed long enough.”

The silver fork in Lu Jingyan’s hand trembled, but he quickly regained his gentle, refined composure. “Father, actually, Fu Yuting and I...”

“What?” Lu Ye cut him off, his tone leaving no room for dissent, his sharp gaze boring into him. “Do you have any objections? The eighteenth of next month is an auspicious day.”

Xu Qian’s carefully maintained composure at last cracked. A polished red nail snapped loudly in her palm. “Uncle, Fu Yuting didn’t even attend the engagement party. She’s simply—”

“Miss Xu,” Lu Ye interrupted coldly. “Lu family matters are not for outsiders to comment on.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lu Jingyan noticed Xu Qian’s knuckles turning white. Beneath the tablecloth, he took her hand, offering a reassuring glance.

Yet the warmth of Lu Jingyan’s palm left Xu Qian feeling profoundly uncomfortable, especially with the man sitting across from her—his ascetic features were enough to drive one to obsession.

Why was Fu Yuting so lucky, able to marry into the Lu family?

Why couldn’t she?

What kind of woman had married Bo Xingzhou?

Night deepened like ink.

By the time they left the Lu family estate, a fine rain had begun to fall. Droplets wove a spider’s web of delicate lines upon the windshield. Bo Xingzhou’s fingertips on the steering wheel grew chilled, and it was only when he saw the window still glowing with light that he realized he had unconsciously driven to Fu Yuting’s villa.

The window on the second floor remained alight.

Bo Xingzhou lit a cigarette, the ember flickering in the darkness. Through the curling smoke, he saw Fu Yuting’s silhouette moving behind the drapes.

At dawn, Bo Xingzhou finally opened the car door. The rain from the night before had soaked his trouser cuffs. He stood beneath her window, watching the morning light creep slowly across the glass.

He glanced at his watch—it was precisely nine.

He straightened his tie and rang the doorbell.

“Open up.” His voice was hoarse and deep.

Fu Yuting was half-asleep, the voice inexplicably familiar. She wasn’t sure if she’d heard wrong.

Who was it, disturbing her dreams so early in the morning?

Still drowsy, she opened the door, only to see a tall, imposing figure framed by the backlight. The scent of cedar and a faint trace of tobacco clung to him, his tailored suit jacket casually draped over his sharply defined arm.

Rubbing her eyes in disbelief, Fu Yuting asked, “Why are you here?”

Her long, black hair tumbled over her shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as she slowly woke, the sunlight casting a delicate arc beneath her nose.

Bo Xingzhou’s gaze softened as it lingered on the tip of her hair, an unnoticeable smile curling at his lips.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ve come to help you move.” He shifted the hand holding a sandwich and a cup of hot milk. “Eat breakfast first.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed his name—Lu Xing—on her computer screen.

Why was she investigating him?

Had she sensed something?

“You…” Fu Yuting’s question stuck in her throat. When she thought about it, it was obvious that if Bo Xingzhou wanted to know where she lived, it would be the easiest thing in the world.

Just then, Assistant Su Han came rushing over. “Sir, the moving company will be here in ten minutes.”

Su Han’s eyes widened as he scanned Bo Xingzhou’s still-creased suit, the cuffs damp with night dew. “President, you didn’t... you didn’t wait here all night after finding out Miss Fu’s address, did you?”

He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them.

Bo Xingzhou’s gaze turned icy in an instant, sending Su Han fleeing. “I’ll go call and check on the movers.”

Fu Yuting’s hands stilled on her cup of hot milk. She looked up at Bo Xingzhou through the rising steam. In the morning light, faint shadows darkened the skin beneath his eyes, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

In the silence between them, something unseen seemed to weave itself in the pause of their breaths.

An hour later.

Lu Jingyan’s spare key clicked in the lock of Fu Yuting’s villa. He was greeted by a room of cold, empty air.

“Yuting?”

His voice echoed through the vacant living room. The unfinished glass of milk on the coffee table had already developed a thin film.

Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his pupils contracted sharply. The entire house had been cleared out, leaving only their old photographs, now face-down and alone on the nightstand. Picking one up, he found Fu Yuting’s smiling face mocking him from the frame.

“Fu. Yu. Ting!” He gritted his teeth, dialing her number.

Inside the moving Maybach.

The car’s perfume mingled with his faint scent of cedar, weaving an invisible web between the two of them. The car fell into a strange, heavy silence, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning.

The tension was shattered by the shrill ringing of a phone.

Lu Jingyan’s name flashed persistently with every jarring note.

“Why did you move out?” Lu Jingyan’s voice came cold and low through the receiver.

Fu Yuting glanced at Bo Xingzhou’s rigid profile and replied softly, “The house is being transferred to you. I’ll be staying with Yunzhi for a while.”

There was a pause on the other end. Lu Jingyan’s knuckles whitened around the key; his voice, deep and tender, sounded almost genuinely lovesick. “Yuting, you’re so good to me. I love you.”

“So do I.” Fu Yuting’s lips curled into a mocking smile, her eyes utterly cold.

She hung up.

Bo Xingzhou’s voice was icy. “Who was that?”

Fu Yuting turned her face to the window, her tone just as soft and cold. “Someone unimportant.”

Bo Xingzhou’s villa stood halfway up the mountain, the panoramic windows overlooking the entire city. As soon as Fu Yuting stepped through the door, the aroma of food greeted her.

“Madam, you’re home?” Mrs. Wang, wearing an apron, emerged from the kitchen with a cheerful smile, pulling out a chair at the dining table.

“Sweet and sour ribs, spicy chicken…”

After washing her hands, Fu Yuting tasted a piece. Every dish was her favorite, the sweetness and saltiness perfectly balanced—down to a degree that even Wen Yunzhi didn’t know her eating habits so well.

No ginger. Her chopsticks paused midair. After five years with Lu Jingyan, he’d never once bothered to learn her preferences. She found herself stunned by the realization.

“Not to your liking?” Bo Xingzhou unbuttoned his jacket and sat across from her, the cold gleam of his cufflinks catching her eye.

Fu Yuting said nothing, bowing her head and eating in silence. She didn’t realize that love was made up of countless perfectly timed “coincidences.”

After dinner, Bo Xingzhou led her to the master bedroom at the end of the second floor.

As he opened the door, Fu Yuting’s breath caught.